Larson meets Dracula
by Langwurst
Summary: In a dark corner of Tasmania Larson must face off against his deadliest opponent yet but The Prince of Darkness isn't the worst that he must face this night...


The swords threw up sparks as they met again and again, the fight was moving off the battlements it slowly lead down a flight of stairs into a grand dinning hall. Larson though inexperienced in sword play had the advantages of both height and weight but his smaller opponent just happened to be Dracula, so in his opinion physics could suck his ancient but, he also happened to be a sports man and that was why Larson wasn't dead.

Dracula tried the old "flying through the air fangs and claws extended" trick. Larson defying the tradition kicked a stool into the vampires face; I'm going to enjoy this thought Dracula. There fight took them down the great hall occasionally one or the other would jump up on the giant table which dominated the room and strike down at his opponent with great drama as the pre dawn faint light seeped through chinks in the heavy drapes.

Despite what Dracula thought his adversary wasn't a hero. Until lately he had been stooge to a criminal mastermind and French man but he was now determined to give up henching for good as he was in love. The lady he had fallen for was a miss Croft but where he was prone to cruelty to small animals and hung around with the kind of guy who upon hearing a joke or making up there own would laugh "Mwhh ha ha ha." possibly whilst stroking a white feline or some kind of cat, she, was a good guy. Who only occasionally killed the large dangerous and now extinct kind of animals only when she needed to. Ok almost only when she needed to. She also had killed one to many poor defenceless monkeys for certain activist groups but as she said it was natural selection. "Because only the ones who know not to steal my bloody health packs ever get a chance to breed again." Larson had realised he needed several more coupons in his good guy slot before the woman of his dreams would so much as look at him and so he had gone from place to place in search of innocents who needed help. It had turned out the innocents where too much to hope for but help was something all people needed, even if giving them what they really needed was a slap round the head and a quick lecture on cruelty to monkeys.

Ultimately his quest had lead him to a small town In Tasmania where he had learned an unusually long lived Count never seen in day light had an entire community in thrall. So he had asked for garlic, holy water and stakes, but the universe saved its little jokes for the likes of Larson and he had received a particularly fine meal with an excellent "Chateau de Pope" to wash it down with. Crosses were another hard one but as his guide had said they were nothing but friendly in the village of Spemlizizer. So with his wooden bullet idea turning out to be a little bit rubbish he had been forced to draw one of the ceremonial swords hanging around the place which had led finally to the Long Galley.

Dracula could feel the sun coming up he decided to end things now. He doubled his efforts knocking the sword from Larson's hand and flinging him across the room. Larson hit one of the dusty curtains which tore at the point by which it hung. Light streamed into the room catching Dracula surprised he cowered back dazed, Larson crossed the room breaking a chair as he went, holding the newly fashioned stake he went to strike the prince of darkness. Ah well what's another sixty years in the grave thought Dracula.

'I've come to save you.' With that Lara Croft burst into the room as well as her normal small arsenal she was carrying garlic, crosses, steaks and bottles with a small cross on them.

'Thanks Lara. But I actually got it covered.'

'But, But.' Lara lost something of her normal focus for a minute. 'I thought if I could save you then you would like me.' She said kicking one foot with the other distractedly.

'But Lara I do like you.' Lara bounced back from the pit of whatever emotional state she had been in.

'Oh that's so great and now that were going out I was wondering what your last name was because Mrs Lara Larson doesn't sound as great but we could keep my name then you'd be Lord Larson Croft which is sooo much better…' Dracula gave Larson a wink which meant "Girl problems huh? Nice neck.'

'Lara? Lara ? how did you know I was here?'

'Oh what? Oh yeah Pierre told me.'

'Pierre?'

'Yeah he's in my book club and he told me all about your quest which was so romantic and I think there was always something between us anyway and how do you feel about a June wedding?'

'Get your filthy hands of him you harlot.' Pierre had thundered into the hall guns drawn and aimed at Dracula and Lara respectively. Lara returned the favour and Dracula who had taken a seat offered a dog end up to Larson.

'Don't listen to her Larson dear, she'll only fill your head with silly ideas.'

'You weren't saying that when we were going out.'

'Wait you guys were going out?'

Dracula nudged Larson and said "Who's the ponce?" in Tasmanian.

'He seduced me!'

'Speak for yourself Jezebel, you were all over me. She was all over me Larson.'

'Wasn't. I wasn't Larson.' Larson sat down and took a drag from the proffered cigarette chocking on the fumes as the argument washed over him.

'Arrre ya smoking yer bad boy?'

'Ma?' Larson nearly swallowed the cigarette.

'Hillary?' Said Dracula a bright and toothy smile on his face.

'Huh?' Said the remaining two.

A small woman had entered the hall seemingly powered by sheer vehemence she sat admits a wheel chair that had weapons strapped on all around her and what seemed to be a small collapsible roulette table and distillery soldered to the side.

'And you three can leave ma boy alone too. I recognise ya little Peepee DuPont an many a year it may a been but I still ken how ta tan yar backside.'

'Larson's mum?' said Pierre fighting the urge to go somewhere and hide.

'Hah told you "Peepee".' Said Lara.

'And a you can leave ma boy alone to yousse hussy. My boy is a innocent as the day he was born n you're a not to go messing his heid up.' Pierre hoped that the old woman couldn't really read minds like he thought she could when he was younger.

'but Ma what are you doing here?'

'I just knew you'd be up ta na gud m'boy an low n behold if ya are not up at all hours, and that goes for you too Mister Drake Petunia.' Dracula merely smiled and replyed in Tasmanian whilst he sipped the tea Igor had bought up for him.

'Hello anyone in? Oh there you are.'

'Jacqueline!' Said Dracula

'Natla.?' Spat Lara as she turned her guns upon the new figure.

'Who?' Asked Pierre trying to steer the conversation away from tanned hides.

'Ai and who'll this hussy be?'

'Will people stop saving me!'

'Oh I'm not here for you lover boy I just popped in to see my good friend Draco. Yo D.'

Dracula made the introductions they were all in Tasmanian which nobody seemed to understand but Dracula was nothing but a gentlemen first.

'Natla aren't you dead? I'm pretty sure I shot you and everything.'

'Those are great shoes. They the new spring line by Gail Oldman?'

'Oh thanks. There the autumn line up actually I know a guy who knows a guy and you know how it is.'

'Well they look great on you Berry but I'd have gone for the aquamarine myself.'

'Oh pleez.' Spoke up Pierre interceding the conversation between the two woman. 'I'll give that mister Oldman is a good heal and toe guy but for the best in shoes people would kill for John-Luke Fuleys Third Season open toes.'

'As if!'

'Ha I always knew ye waz a poofter.'

'Am not.'

'Incidentally what do you think of the drapes?'

'Well on ze fabulous scale…'

'Hah Puffter.'

'If you don't all mind I was doing a job here.'

'we'll get on with it then.'

'Yeah we're not holding you back'

'Not as if you even brought your own steak.'

'Well?'

'Look I can't do it with you all looking over my shoulder back seat staking.'

'Hah typical male inability to perform when it comes to the night.'

'That's going to be no good when were married.'

'Huh? Said Lara. 'I didn't say that who said that?'

'Natla if you were visiting Dracula and you don't speak Tasmanian and he doesn't English what were you going to say?'

'Right which one of you said that and when I find out that was you Pierre there's going to be trouble.'

'Yes he does.'

'No he doesn't, look. Oight Mr Dracula? Do you speak English?'

'No.'

'See I told you.'

'and then when I'm finished with the skewer things are going to get ugly.'

Larson looked down on Dracula who seemed to be quite enjoying himself he no longer had the heart to stake him. He slipped out the back he knew that this was more or less what he wanted one day but he was determined to make that day as far away from now as possible. Pulling away he smiled at the thought that they seemed to be acting like a family already.


End file.
